


Aurora

by colorfulmagic



Series: Mirror [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Language, M/M, Pakku sucks, Stand Alone, no I will not elaborate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25320766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulmagic/pseuds/colorfulmagic
Summary: Hakoda has a nightmare. Bato helps him through it.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar)
Series: Mirror [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1834039
Comments: 42
Kudos: 180





	Aurora

Bato swam slowly into consciousness and for a moment he wasn’t sure what woke him. It was silent and dark outside, and Hakoda’s body was warm against his. No, that wasn’t quite right— his back was stiff against him, fists clenched. Nightmare. 

“Hakoda,” he said softly, then repeated it louder when nothing happened. Hakoda rolled over, eyes fluttering, caught deep in whatever nightmare was playing in his head. Bato shook him and Hakoda’s fist struck out with enough force to bruise, catching him straight to the ribs. Bato managed to wrap him in a crushing hug, pinning his arms to his sides as his feet kicked out. 

He landed another solid kick before Bato finally shook him awake, and it took long minutes of Bato whispering meaningless things to him before he stopped flailing. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” Bato said quietly. Hakoda was looking at him wide eyed, gaze still panicked. 

“We need to go,” Hakoda rasped. “It’s not safe, we have to—“ His breath was quickening, too fast for him to form words. 

“Fuck,” Bato mumbled. “Hakoda,” he said clearly. “The war is over. You’re in your tent. Sokka and Katara are in the other room. You’re safe.”

“Bato?” Hakoda mumbled, then shook his head. 

“Yeah,” Bato said. He grasped one of Hakoda’s hands in his own and pressed it to his chest, right over his heart. “Breath with me,” he said, and he breathed exaggeratedly until Hakoda followed him. They stayed like that for a long time, until Hakoda could match his breaths and his eyes didn’t look quite as haunted. “Bad one?” Bato asked. 

“Yeah,” Hakoda breathed, and tightened his grip on Bato’s hand. 

“The raid?”

“Yeah.”

Bato exhaled, and with the hand not clutched in Hakoda’s he stroked soothing lines down his back. Hakoda looked more tired than usual, purple circles under his eyes and a pinched set to his mouth. The newest group from the Northern Water Tribe had arrived recently, and Hakoda had been at his wits end trying to accommodate all of them. The nightmares, though, had been waking him long before the new arrivals had come. 

It was odd. Bato had never known Hakoda to rest this uneasily. He suspected it had something to do with where they were sleeping. They hadn’t been home for nearly four years, first due to the war then the negotiations in the Fire Nation. Memories hung behind every corner, and in a lifetime shaped by war that wasn’t always welcome. Bato would catch a certain scent or hear a certain cadence in speech and would find himself missing Kya so achingly he couldn’t breathe around it. 

“Come on,” Bato said. “Get dressed.” If his hunch was right it should be the proper time for this. 

“What?”

“You need a break. So do I. Get dressed.” 

They were changed and out of the tent in no time, because going from sleepy and naked to wide awake and clothed in half a minute flat was one of the lesser known skills fighting in a war had given them. 

Bato led them through the icy tundra, but not before Hakoda quietly ducked into Sokka and Katara’s tent to check on them. They walked for some time, heads bent against the bracing cool wind. Finally they reached the outcropping Bato had in mind, picking their way down the rocky hill with an ease that came from growing up on similar slopes. It was quieter at the bottom, just a snow dusted valley that trailed into an icy calm lake. And, high above them just as Bato suspected, was the Aurora. 

“Oh,” Hakoda said, face tilted up and glowing from the green light. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Bato agreed. Flaring purples reds and greens danced across the sky, spanning the skies from one horizon to the other and looking close enough to touch. The bright green lights created patterns across the sky, inky black darkness behind them serving only to cast them into sharper relief. 

The Shamans used to tell him stories, when he was young, about how the Aurora lights were formed. Some said they were a pathway for the dead to reach the heavens. Shaman Maluk had told him it was just the spirits playing catch. Bato didn’t know what he believed, but he knew they were beautiful. 

They laid there under the night sky for a while, just taking in the sight. A cool breeze blew through the valley, whipping some snow around them. Hakoda shifted closer and Bato wrapped an arm around him. He watched as Hakoda rested his head against his chest, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. 

“You can’t keep going on like this,” Bato said quietly, reaching up and lightly brushing over the dark circles under Hakoda’s eyes. 

“It’s not like I’m asking for these dreams,” Hakoda said, irritated. “Besides, soon most of the Northern delegation will be gone and there’ll be some peace.” Bato was silent. “Anyways,” Hakoda said lightly. “Did I tell you about the latest move Pakku pulled?” It was an obvious diversion, but Bato allowed it. 

“You did not. Was he being a cockknob again?”

“That’s just it,” Hakoda said thoughtfully. He picked Bato’s hand up from where it was resting in his stomach and started idly playing with his fingers. “He was being strangely nice. It’s creeping the hell out of me.”

“Nice how?”

“He took me aside and told me that anything I needed, the Northern Water Tribe would do their best to provide, starting with him. Then he— put his hand on my shoulder.” The tone he said it in was the same as if he was informing Bato that a penguin had shit in his hand. 

“Well, maybe he’s just trying to make amends. He was kind of shitty to you, at first.”

“Understatement of the century,” Hakoda muttered, rolling his eyes. “Why now, though?”

“Well, have you been treating him any differently? Or has anything else changed?”

“Hm,” Hakoda said. “I don’t think so. Or, well, I suppose Mom made us all have dinner together. He seemed kind of strange at that.”

Bato squinted. “Koda,” he said. “Did you  _ tell _ him, before that, that Kanna was your mother?”

Hakoda stared. “How could he not know that?” he demanded. 

“I don’t know!” Bato said. “He lived on the opposite side of the world, how would he?” They stared at each other in silence, faces horrified. 

“Tui and La,” Hakoda muttered, and Bato lost it. His stomach hurt from laughing so hard, and distantly he heard Hakoda’s protests. 

“Hakoda,” Bato gasped. “Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure he’s trying to— to be your parent.”

“No,” Hakoda scowled, face darkening. “There is absolutely no way—“ he cut off, brows furrowing. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered finally, and Bato laughed until his cheeks ached. 

“How does it feel to have the most rancid man in the Northern Water Tribe as a father figure?” Bato asked cheerfully. 

I am a forty two year old man,” Hakoda said irritably. “If I wanted another father, which I don’t, there are about a thousand men I would’ve gone to before Pakku. Starting with Iroh.”

“You know,” Bato said. “Of all the things I could’ve seen coming with the end of the war, you practically adopting and being adopted by Fire Nation royalty was not one of them.”

“Not my fault,” Hakoda said mournfully. “He was just so small and awkward and earnest. You would’ve adopted him too, if you saw him.”

“I did see him,” Bato said, amused. “He looked fine to me.”

“You weren’t looking hard enough. Besides, you’re one to talk. Toph isn’t exactly a peasant herself.”

It was Bato’s turn to guiltily shift his eyes away. “She was just so small. Smaller than your fire bender, even.”

“I’m pretty sure she bullies ‘my fire bender’. And Sokka. And Katara.”

“That’s what makes her so fun,” Bato insisted. Hakoda smiled at him, and his eyes were so impossibly fond that Bato felt his breath catch in his throat. Behind the easy grin was something else, though— something that reminded him of hands shaking in the dark. 

“I miss her,” Bato said softly. It was the subject they had been dancing around all night, present behind each word. 

Hakoda was silent for a moment. “Me too,” he whispered finally. “She would’ve loved this. The war over, the kids all grown up.”

“All grown up and kicking ass,” Bato said with a tiny smile. “Spirits, she would be  _ so proud  _ of Katara. She used to worry about her constantly.”

“Hm. When she started waterbending… well, we both knew the risks. And it’s not like we could tell our five year old she couldn’t waterbend because certain people see that as good enough reason to murder her.”

“Look at her now, though. Master waterbender, teacher of the Avatar.”

“Yeah,” Hakoda said quietly. “She’d be proud. Do you remember, we'd always talk about what we’d do once the war was over?”

“Ah, yeah,” Bato laughed. “It was kind of hard to forget you insisting that we could go live on a deserted island where you’d never need to write another letter to Earth Kingdom diplomats again.”

“It was a good plan, too,” Hakoda said absently. “We should’ve left when we had the chance. Kya would have agreed.”

“Hm. She always said as long as she had us, she didn’t need anything else.” They stared up at the sky for a bit, lost in memories. Bato wondered if Kya was up there now, the spirits guiding her up the Aurora. “We could’ve done it,” Bato said absently. 

“Hm?” 

“Traveled,” Bato clarified. “We could’ve visited the Earth Kingdom together, maybe. She’d always wanted to go, before.”

“Did she?” Hakoda said with some surprise. “She never mentioned. I would’ve taken her.”

“Hm. You had more important things to worry about.”

“Yeah,” Hakoda said with a slightly bitter smile. “I always did.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Bato said, shoving him a little. “She understood. There was a war going on. Besides, she wasn’t exactly sitting idle herself.”

Hakoda snorted. “I’m pretty sure she did more conflict resolution in her first month here than I did in my nineteen years as chief.”

“As she frequently reminded you,” Bato agreed, and Hakoda laughed softly. The area to Bato’s left felt colder than normal, like the spot she should have been sitting in was feeling her absence as well.

They used to go stargazing all the time. Hakoda and Kya would barge into his tent in the middle of the night and shove him out, practically dragging him down to the coast. He would pretend to kick up a fuss, but secretly those were some of his fondest memories. They would talk long into the morning about anything that crossed their minds: the stars, the latest tribe gossip, religion, the newest stray Kya took in, their childhoods, the war. He saw Hakoda’s fingers twitch to Bato’s side and knew he was thinking the same thing. 

“Koda,” Bato said softly. There was a terrible sadness in Hakoda’s eyes. In the soft glow of the flaring lights above he seemed almost ethereal. 

“Hm.”

“You can talk to me, if you want,” Bato said simply. Hakoda was silent for a long time, burrowing his head further into Bato’s arms. 

“It always starts the same,” Hakoda said finally. “It’s the three of us, just talking in the dining pit or your tent, like we used to. But— I take my eyes off you for a second—“ his voice cracked, and it was several seconds before Hakoda spoke again. “And you’re both lying in front of me, burning. Dead. And it’s my fault.”

Bato let out a tiny sigh, more an exhale than anything. “There was nothing you could’ve done,” he said, but even as he said it he knew it was futile. Hakoda shook his head against his chest and Bato caught his chin in his hand, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Hakoda,” he said clearly. “There was nothing you could’ve done. It was not your fault.” 

“Wasn’t it?” Hakoda murmured, eyes dark. 

“No,” Bato said firmly. “And neither was what happened to me. We were both adults. I knew the risks, and I made my decision to fight in the war. Kya knew the risks from the moment she saw Katara shove a pile of snow onto Sokka without lifting a finger, and she made hers too. Give us the dignity of a choice.”

Hakoda was silent for a long time, absently fiddling with Bato’s fingers, flipping his hand over and stroking the lines along his palm. Finally he nodded slightly, and Bato relaxed.

It wouldn’t solve everything. Hakoda would most likely still wake up from nightmares, and Bato would keep hiding the bruises until Hakoda would find out, and they would inevitably fight about that too. It wasn’t really something they could fix. It was just something that was. Much like Bato’s scars, or the way his muscles spasmed sometimes and he would push him away because that was how Bato dealt with pain. Still. There was no one Bato would rather spend the rest of his life fighting with. 

Bato pressed a kiss to the top of Hakoda’s head, and in silence they watched the Aurora above them, hands laced together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Like and comment if you liked it, comments give me life :D


End file.
